From Silsden go up the long hill (A6034) towards Addingham until the hill levels out, then turn left on Cringles Lane (keep your eyes peeled!) for a half-mile where you need to veer right along Banks Lane and go 100 yards past Moorcock Farm Hall where the footpath takes you into the fields on your right. Walk down the line of the wallings, thru the gate, and keep following down until you reach a cluster of large rocks. Stop here and look over the wall where you’ll see one of the boulders poking its head out on the other side. That’s it!
Archaeology & History
First discovered by Eric Cowling in the late 1930s during one of his explorations of the immense Counter Hill earthworks (thought to be Iron Age), whose remains can still be seen encircling the peaked hill close by. The stone is found in the edge of the walling halfway down the field towards the Marchup enclosure and is just inside the outer edge of the Counter Hill ditched enclosure surrounding the hill above you. (on the other side of the wall from the carving, you can make out the remains of the faint line of the ditch running pretty straight up towards the next wall)
Cluster of cups by wallingCounter Hill carving from above
At the top eastern edge of the stone is a clear cluster of 3 cup-markings, just as the rock meets the walling. A much more faint group is visible to the left. Cowling (1946) suggesting that the three-cup-cluster “shows the final form of the fylfot symbol,” i.e., the three-armed swastika. Boughey & Vickerman (2003) meanwhile suggest that one of the two clusters are “doubtful (possibly recent?).”
When we came to this site yesterday, the day was overcast and cloudy. But it seemed there may be more to this carving than has previously been recorded. What may be a faint ring seemed possible near the middle of the stone, with a natural crack running through it (you can just about make it out in the photo on the right). There also seemed to be other faint lines on the rock, but until we’ve been here again with better lighting conditions, the two groups of 3-cups is the symbolic state of play for this stone!
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
Cowling, E.T., Rombald’s Way: A Prehistory of Mid-Wharfedale, William Walker: Otley 1946.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombalds Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
Plenty of ways of approaching this huge fella! Personally, I’d take it from the steep valley immediately east and north where the ramparts drop you down the hill, if only to get a decent idea of the scale of the thing! But those of you into taking it easy can do no better than take the country road south out of Poynings village (towards Brighton), down Saddlescombe Road, for just under a mile, where you should take a right-hand turn along the Summer Down lane for a mile. You’ll then hit the Devil’s Dyke Road. Turn right here and go to the end. You’re right in the middle of it!
Archaeology & History
Early plan of Devil’s Dyke ‘camp’
Although most of this huge monument hasn’t been given the investigation it deserves — hence making knowledge of its origins more speculative than factual — as Jacquetta Hawkes (1973) wrote, seemingly all those years ago now, “it is known that a village lying half in and round them was occupied in the Belgic period at the end of the Iron Age.” And it’s certainly big enough! The encircling circuit of dykes themselves stretch all the way round a distance of more than 2150 yards long (that’s 1.22 miles, or 1.97km!), with the longest east-west axis being more than half-a-mile across.
Nowadays it seems, the Devil’s Dyke is the name given to the steep valley below the encampment, but a hundred years back it was the camp itself that was known by this name. Described by the wandering antiquarian R. Hippisley Cox (1927) as “a camp containing forty acres (with) very steep and difficult approaches,” another early account in The Antiquaries Journal — commenting on a ground-plan of the site from the Brighton and Hove Herald of 1925 — told:
“The heavy encircling lines represent ramparts, and the thin line marks the outer margin of the accompanying ditch. A spur renders the earthwork weakest on the south-west, and the rampart is therefore highest between the points 1 and 3, rising 21ft vertically above the ditch, which is nearly filled up at the present time. On the north-west there is steep slope outside the camp, and the ramparts are considerably lower, the iner ditch being nearly obliterated. The outer rampart is now wanting betwen 7 and 8, but this inner one becomes stronger as the outer slope of the ground decreases, only to die away again on the south-east where the camp overlooks the steep Dyke Valley. A double-bank and inner ditch can still be traced from the north-east angle to a point near the old golf-club house.”
I first came here as a young lad and the site was lost on me (in them days, if monuments weren’t stiff and upright, I really didn’t see the point!). These days however, the size of it alone blows you away somewhat.
Folklore
As you’d expect the creation myths of this site and its edges relate to our old heathen friend, the devil! The landscape itself was, in old lore, the work of the devil (though prior to this, the devil was known in peasant-lore to be a legendary giant, though I am unaware of the name/s of the giant in question); and the great valley below the Devil’s Dyke encampment was actually dug out by Old Nick in the old tales. That old folklorist Jacqueline Simpson (1973) takes up the story:
“The Devil…had been infuriated by the conversion of Sussex, one of the last strongholds of paganism in England, and more particularly by the way the men of the Weald were building churches in all their villages. So he swore that he would dig right through the Downs in a single night, to let in the sea and drown them all. He started just near Poynings and dug and dug most furiously, sending great clods of earth flying left and right — one became Chanctonbury, another Cissbury, another Rackham Hill, and yet another Mount Caburn. Towards midnight, the noise he was making disturbed an old woman, who looked out to see what was going on. As soon as she understood what he was up to, she lit a candle and set it on her window-sill, holding up a sieve in front of it to make a dimly glowing globe. The Devil looked round, and thought this was the rising sun. At first he could hardly believe his eyes, but then he heard a cock crowing — for the old woman, just to make quite sure, had knocked her cockerel off his perch. So Satan flew away, leaving his work half done. Some say that as he went out over the Channel, a great dollop of earth fell from his cloven hoof, and that’s how the Isle of Wight was made; others, that he bounded straight over into Surry, where the impact of his landing formed the hollow known as his Punch Bowl.”
That’s the story anyway — take it or leave it! Of importance in this fable is the figure of the “old woman”: a much watered-down version of the cailleach figure of more ancient northern and Irish climes, where tales of her doings are still very much alive. And many are the tales of her battles with other giant figures, just as we evidently once had here.
Ghosts have been reported by local people upon this hill-top site; and there are a number of other folktales to be found here…which I’ll unfold over time as the months pass by…
References:
Anon., “Notes: The Brighton Dyke,” in The Antiquaries Journal, 5:4, October 1925.
Clinch, G., “Ancient Earthworks,” in Victoria County History of Sussex – volume 2 (edited by W. Page), St. Catherine’s Press: London 1905.
Cox, R. Hippisley, The Green Roads of England, Methuen: London 1927.
Hawkes, Jacquetta, A Guide to the Prehistoric and Roman Monuments in England and Wales, Chatto & Windus: London 1973.
Hogg, A.H.A., “Some Aspects of Surface Fieldwork,” in The Iron Age and its Hillforts (edited by M. Jesson & David Hill), Southampton University Archaeology Society 1971.
Simpson, Jacqueline, The Folklore of Sussex, Batsford: London 1973.
Simpson, Jacqueline, “Sussex Local Legends,” in Folklore Journal, volume 84, 1973.
Follow the same directions to reach the Harden Moor circle. From here, walk down the footpath at its side down the slope for 100 yards and take the first little footpath on your left for 25 yards, then left again for 25 yards, watching for a small footpath on your right. Walk on here for another 100 yards or so, keeping your eyes peeled for the image in the photo just off-path on your left, almost overgrown with heather.
Archaeology & History
This is just one of several cairns in and around this area (I’ll probably add more and give ’em their own titles and profiles as time goes by), but it’s in a pretty good state of preservation. Nothing specific has previously been written about it, though it seems to have been recorded and given the National Monument number of 31489, with the comment “Cairn 330m north of Woodhead, Harden Moor.” (anyone able to confirm or correct this for me?)
It’s a good, seemingly undisturbed tomb, very overgrown on its north and eastern sides. Three pretty large upright stones, a couple of feet high, remain in position with an infill of smaller stones and overgrowth (apart from removing a little vegetation from the edges to see it clearer, we didn’t try disturbing it when we found it). It gives the impression of being a tomb for just one, perhaps two people and is more structured than the simple pile-of-stone cairns on the moors north of here above Ilkley and Bingley. Indeed, the upright stones initially gave the impression of it once being a small cromlech of sorts! Other cairns exist close by, but until we get heather-burning done up here, they’re difficult to find – or at least get any decent images of them!
Dead easy this one! On the Keighley-Halifax A629 road, about 500 yards south past Flappit Spring (public house), there’s a small road to your right. Walk on here for 200 yards and look in the field to your right. If the grass is long you might struggle to see it, but gerrin the field and it runs right up against the wall. Y’ can’t miss it really! You can park up a coupla hundred yards down the A629 main road, by the old quarry, and walk back to get here.
Archaeology & History
Although I’ve earlier described this as “nowt much to look at,” the more I come here, the more I like the place (sad aren’t !!?). The hard-core archaeology folks amidst you should like it aswell. Not to be confused with the site of the same name a mile to the south of here, this large earthwork was shown on the 1852 OS-map as a complete ring, which is also confirmed in old folklore; and a survey done by Bradford University in the late 1970s indicated a complete circle was once in evidence. To view this for yourself: if you type the OS grid-reference into Google maps, you’ll see from the aerial image that a complete ring was indeed here at sometime in the not-too-distant past.
Bend in the ditch on northern side of the ringHarry Speight’s 1898 drawing
Today however – indeed, since William Keighley described it 1858 – there’s only a shallow, semi-circular ditch to be seen in the fields. But despite this, its remains have brought it to the literary attention of about a dozen writers – though we still don’t know exactly what it was! The best conjecture is by the archaeologist Bernard Barnes (1982), who thinks it best to describe as a enclosure or earthwork dating from the Bronze Age. Eighty feet across and covering more than 1.5 acres, an excavation of the site in 1911 found nothing to explain its status.
One of the first descriptions of this site comes from the pen of the industrial Bradford historian, John James in 1876 (though Hearne, Leland and Richardson describe it in brief much earlier). Talking of the sparsity of prehistoric remains in the region (ancient history wasn’t his forte!), he said, “I know of no British remains in the parish that are not equivocal, unless a small earth-work lying to the westward of Cullingworth may be considered of that class.”
Indeed it is! He continued:
“It is situated on a gentle slope, about two hundred yards from a place called Flappit Springs, on the right-hand side of the road leading thence to Halifax. The form has been circular. (my italics) The greater part of it to the south has been destroyed by the plough. I took several measurements of that part which remains, but have mislaid the memoranda I then made; I however estimate the diameter to have been about 50 yards. The ditch to the westward is very perfect. It is about two yards deep and three wide; with the earth thrown up in the form of a rampart on the inner side. The remain is less perfect to the eastward.”
James then speculates on the nature of the site, thinking it to be “one of a line of forts erected by the Brigantes…to prevent the inroads of the Sistuntii.” Intriguing idea!
A few years later when William Cudworth (1876) visited the site, he described:
“At present there only remains about one-fourth part of a circle representing the appearance of a considerable earthwork or rampart. The remainder has been cut away by the construction of the road leading to the allotments.”
Echoing Mr James’ sentiments, Cudworth also suggested “it may have been an enclosure to guard their cattle, while in summer they grazed on the vast slope on which it stands.” Y’ never know…
NW section showing bank and ditchExposed stonework of inner embankment
A visit to the place on October 21 2007, found not only a profusion of mushrooms scattering the field (varying species of Amanita, Lycoperdon, Panaeolina, Psilocybes, etc), and the remnants of two old stone buildings 20 yards of the NE side, but a distinctive ‘entrance’ on the northern side of the ring, which gave the slight impression of it being a possible henge monument. It’s certainly big enough! All traces of the southern-side of the ring however, have been ploughed out.
The views from here are quite excellent, nearly all the way round. You’re knocking-on a 1000 feet above sea level and the high hills of Baildon, Ilkley, Ogden Moor and the Oxenhope windmills are your mark-points. There’s one odd thing to think about aswell: if this is a prehistoric site, it’s pretty much an isolated one according to the archaeo-catalogue – and as we know only too well, that aint the rule of things. We’ve got adjacent moorlands south and west of here, very close by. Likelihood is, there’s undiscovered stuff to be foraged for hereabouts…
Folklore
An old folk-name given to this ring is the Blood Dykes, which is supposed to relate to the place being the site of a great battle.
References:
Barnes, Bernard, Man and the Changing Landscape, Eaton: Merseyside 1982.
Bennett, Paul, The Old Stones of Elmet, Capall Bann: Milverton 2001.
Cudworth, William, Round about Bradford, Thomas Brear: Bradford 1876.
Elgee, Frank & Harriett, The Archaeology of Yorkshire, Methuen: London 1933.
Forshaw, C.F., ‘Castlestead, near Cullingworth,’ in Yorkshire Notes and Queries – volume 4, H.C. Derwent: Bradford 1908.
James, John, The History and Topography of Bradford, Longmans: London 1876.
Keighley, J.J., ‘The Prehistoric Period,’ in Faull & Moorhouse’s, West Yorkshire: An Archaeological Survey to AD 1500 – volume 1, WYMCC: Wakefield 1981.
Keighley, William, Keighley, Past and Present, Arthur Hall: Keighley 1858.
Speight, Harry, Chronicles and Stories of Bingley and District, Elliott Stock: London 1898.
Not too far from the High Laithe cup-and-ring stone. Along the A6131 out of Skipton, park up at the Rendezvous hotel and go up the road on your left, over the canal. As you approach the second house up, note the rock on the right-hand side of the tiny road, perched on the edge above the stream, with ivy creeping up one side of it. That’s it!
Archaeology & History
This stone was moved to its present position a few decades back, sometime before Hedges (1986) first recorded it in his Carved Rocks work. It’s a reasonably large boulder, resting on the slope above the drop to the stream below, and will probably drop into the waters in the not-too-distant future. Whether the stream had any initial relationship with the cup-markings etched on its surface, we’ll probably never know (a number of rock art students love the water-stone relationship — and this one is no doubt in their listings!). Its first literary appearance by Hedges described it thus:
“Large fairly smooth grit rock sloping down to stream at E and into ground and grass at W. Eleven cups, circle of nine very small cups at one end, groove from depression, one other groove and possible cup.”
Lower half of CR-016
Which just about does it justice. When we visited the place yesterday, the cluster of small cups at the top of the rock were difficult to see clearly in the grey daylight; but what seems to be another 2 cups (not in Hedges, nor Boughey & Vickerman’s [1986] survey) may be on the lower-half of the stone, and can be seen in the photo here. We need to go back again on a bright day and catch the stone in a different mood to suss out whether we were just seeing things.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Leeds 2003.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
From Skipton town centre follow the A6131 road south, out of town, for less than a mile, and turn left up Cawder Lane. Avoid following the road into the housing, instead bearing up the country lane to your left. Just before reaching the farmhouses 200 yards up, note the stony hilltop above you on your left (up behind Horse Close Farm). Walk up there for 250 yards NE and you’ll find it!
Archaeology & History
Horse Hill enclosure, looking W
This is an impressive site. I’d say very impressive! (but I’m easily pleased) Oddly however, I can’t find a damn thing about this place in any of my archaeo-records and it appears (as far as I’m aware) that no survey has ever been made of it. Which is bloody incredible! Indeed, the only archaeological notes that appear to exist about this very impressive and well-preserved Iron Age enclosure, states, “Subcircular enclosed settlement on Horse Close Hill 250m north of Horse Close Farm.” That’s it! Nothing else! So I’m afraid you’ve only got my crappy description of it to go on for the time being…
As the aerial image below shows, this is a large oval-shaped enclosure, defined primarily by an almost complete ring of double walling arranged around this hilltop site. Measuring approximately 78 yards (71m) north-south, and nearly 75 yards (70m) along its longer east-west axis, with a circumference of about 235 yards (215m), many of the upright stones which define its edges stand between 1-3 feet in height. Some of these stones have obviously been moved into position by the lads who built the structure, but the site has also taken advantage of a number of large earthfast boulders in its construction.
If you walk around the edges of the walled enclosure, almost every bit of it is clearly visible. Between the defining inner and outer walling of the structure we find sections of the site packed with smaller stones, giving the impression that it may once have been filled all round, making the walls thick strong defensive ones. But without a more detailed investigation, we’ll never really know…
Horse Close settlement, looking NEAerial view of enclosure
It is clearly very similar in structure, and probably date, to the well-known Brackenhall circle on Shipley Glen, near Baildon (though the nature of the Brackenhall site has long been a topic of controversy). And, as with the Brackenhall site, a number of cup-and-ring stones are found close by — including the Great Wood Laithe carving in the field immediately below on the west side. I’ve also found a similar structure to this on the hills above Steeton, a few miles to the south (though it’s not as well-defined as this one).
Although the site is mainly defined by its oval walling, we also find other stretches of walling that run outwards from the central site: one in particular running north-east for 35 yards out towards a small standing-stone further up the field. Other curious earthworks and remains scatter the fields on the eastern sides of this main feature, which the helpful farmer here pointed out to us.
Worth the short trek if you like your cup&rings! On the Aire Valley Keighley-to-Skipton road (A629), as you approach the southern outskirts of Skipton, take the turning at the roundabout as if you’re going into the town up the A6131. Go over the next roundabout a coupla hundred yards on, then 200 yards further on note the right-turn up over the canal (big hotel just here, where you could park up). Walk over the canal up the tiny country lane. Ignore the first left turn and walk up, bearing next left uphill and onto the footpath. Walk up the hillocky quarried bit until you reach the stile in the wall. Once on the other side, look in the walling 20 yards uphill. You can’t miss it!
Archaeology & History
First described by Messrs Hartley and Radley in the Yorkshire Archaeological Register of 1968, this small “standing stone”, less than three-feet tall, has a distinct cup-and-double- ring carved onto its upright north-facing edge. The outline of the carving is visible even in bad light, though you might wanna rest and gaze for a minute or two for yourself and the lighting to adjust if it’s a grey day. There’s another cup-marking below the bottom right of the double-ring, with another ‘possible’ just above ground-level.
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Leeds 2003.
Hedges, John (ed.), The Carved Rocks on Rombald’s Moor, WYMCC: Wakefield 1986.
A sacred water source that is thought to have taken its name from the adjacent church of St. Margaret (makes sense!). The site was described at some length in the fine work of Robert Charles Hope (1893), where he quoted extensively from earlier works:
“At the west end of this chappel, about three yards distant, is the well or spring, antiently and to this day called St. Margaret’s Well, being the very same that she by her prayers at the building of the chapple opened. Of which heare a certaine old English poet, who in the life of St. Frideswyde in the legend of English saints, speaking of her various fortunes and of her passage from Bampton to this place, saith thus:
Ther fer with her [fellows.] she be laft ther
And to serve Jhesu Christ . a chapel leet [raise.]
Ther as is yit a fayr cort . and a cherche fayr and swete
Arerid in the honour . of her and Seynte Margrete
As this mayde [lived.] ther . in holy lyf and clene
The maydenes that were with her . gone hem ofte be [bemoan.]
That water was sum del to fer . hem ofte for smale dede
And cride on Seynt Friswid . that she schold hem therof [rid]
This mayde Seynt Friswid . bad our lordis sonde
That he water thorw his gras . hem sente ner honde
So sprong ther up a welle . cler [enough] and clene
That fond hem water inowf . tho dorst hem nought be mene
That beside the cherche is [it] . in the west syde
That mony a mon hath bote do . and that men seggeth wide.
Over St. Margaret’s Well was a covering of stone, and thereon on the front the picture of St. Margaret (or perhaps St. Frideswyde), pulled down by Alderman Sayre, of Oxon, a little before the late war, 1639.
To this well also and her image and certaine reliques in the chapple did the people come on pilgrimage with as great devotion to ease their burdened soules and obtaine resolutions of their doubts, as they would to an oracle.
And here, also, when those maimed and unsound folke had bin cured either by bathing in, or drinking of; this water, hang up their crutches as a speciall memorandum of their cured griefs. For which end and purpose there were severall preists that inhabited here appointed by the Prior of St. Frideswide’s purposely to confess and absolve those pilgrims.
Near to this place it was that the Lady Edyne, of Wynton, the widdow of Sir William Lancelot, knight, had a vision. (See Twyne, xxi., 199.)
The well wee find almost to the last frequented by superstitious people, and especially about a hundred years before the dissolution. Soe much, that they were forced to enclose it–as in old time before, they had defended it–with a little house of stone over it with a lock and a dore to it. But all decaying and going much to ruine, at the suppression of St. Frideswyde’s Priory, was at last –I meane the little house–about twenty-five years agoe, pulled downe and quite taken away. Soe that now being overgrowne with nettles and other weeds, and harbouring frogs, snails, and vermin, scarce owneth the name of a well; noe more than the old and small building joyning to the north side of the chapple doth–as formally it did–a court.
The well is now in better condition. When I visited it on 25th October, 1887, the churchyard was tidily fenced and very neatly kept. At the well a descent of some five steps brought one to an arched vault, beneath which, in the centre of the flooring, was a round basin containing the water of the well, the surface of the water being about six feet below the level of the ground. On the wall above the arch was this inscription:
“S. MARGARET’S WELL.
S. Margaretae fontem, precibus S. Frideswidæ (ut fertur) concessum, nquinatum diu obrutumque in usum revocavit T. J. Prout, Aed. Xti alumnus, Vicarius, A. S. MDCCCLXXIV.
At the time of the restoration of this well, an Oxford wit, having regard to its proximity to the church, suggested for an inscription:
Ariston men hydor
When you open your pew-door,
This may comfort supply
Should the sermon be dry.
(Ibid., pp. 323-328, et seq.)
Denham Tracts, p. 151: The well of St. Margaret or St. Frideswide, in Binsey churchyard, scarce two miles from Oxford, is supposed to have sprung from the prayers of St. Frideswide, and many in olden times consulted it as an oracle on the state of their burdened souls; maimed and sick persons drank and bathed in the waters, and were cured by them. The stone edifice was in the last century destroyed, but has been restored.“
References:
Hope, R.C., The Legendary Lore of the Holy Wells of England, Elliot Stock: London 1893.
In this lovely little hamlet we find an ancient well, registered as a scheduled monument in its well-house, but with a long history and lots of legends. It was said to have been a wishing well of considerable power, but many local people wouldn’t use it because it was also the place where mischievous pixies lived. It seems that one of its main magical properties was to divine the love of a person. The writer Ruth Tongue (1965) told a long tale she came across in her county folklore book about such a fortune:
“There was a maid servant, see, and she were coming on in years and she do serve a farmer’s wife as were high in station. Proper tackalackey she made of the dear soul, and she having no living kin. Twas pitiful, and her a-longing for a parcel of children underfoot, even if ’twas only to call her Auntie. But there, ‘twadn’t to be, and her with a heart so full a-drip with loving kindness as a honey comb. Oh, she were a proper mannerly maiden, no ways like her mistress who were just a old ewe dressed up lambs fashion and spending her days living two-three steps from nothing. But it didn’t seem like the maiden couldn’t never meet up with a proper man for her. She wadn’t no summer morning to look at, poor soul, and her mistress kept her so thin as a yard of pump water. But there Providence knows best! There were a old fellow over by Aisholt, and he were such a upstanding courageous man he’d a never got round to marrying, let alone finding the bravery to walk arm in crook with a maiden. Well o’ course he were lonely like she. And it come to a St. Agnes Eve when maids creepy over to her well at Cothelstone and whisper their heart’s desire when ’tis dark, and if St. Agnes do fancy the maiden she’ll send a husband that year. Now the poor maid she were coming to the end of her days of womanhood and beginning to blossom about the head, and she were desperate unhappy about it. Her heart was all a-set on children, and she find bravery to slip out after farm’s a-locked up. She didn’t feel ’twere mannerly to worrit St. Agnes over one who was so on in years when there was young maidens as plentiful as blackberries, so what do the dear soul do but go down all in the dimmit to the Wishing Well in Seven Wells Coombe. Proper unket well ’tis, and hard tew find. But St. Agnes must ha’ knowed, for she found’n though there wadn’ but little moon and old fellow he d’hear summat down in coombe and come to look-see. He were a wise old man and nothing hurted he, but he were shy of folks, seems like. Well, whether ’twere St. Agnes I can’t say, but in a year the farm was sold up and the maid was a-wed to the old fellow. So quiet as a sheep the man was, wouldn’ downarg no-one, but he made her a good husband. In a year or two she’d a babe in the cradle and one under her apron, and two clinging to her skirts, and they was all so happy as daisies in the sunshine, as they say.”
This old cross was demolished long since, but I think it’s important to rejunevate a memory of its existence back into our times. Little has been written about the site as it was destroyed more than 200 years ago and images of the edifice are rare indeed! It was found near the modern centre of the city and although this ornate-looking thirty-foot tall cross was obviously impressive, an even earlier upright stone stood here in the 13th and 14th century. But this new carved monument took precedence over its older and lesser upright. First described — I think! — by Thomas Gent (1730), he told us that,
“The old cross stood towards the Kennel, against the middle of the market. The lower part was an octagon, had an ascent of six high steps, covered with Tyles for Butchers, higher up with nitches, in which had been effigies and a small pillar above with four Dials and over them a Fane.”
A few years later when Francis Drake (1788) described the same monument, he added very few extra details; though told us it had five steps and not six — but this seems to have been an error on his behalf. In C.B. Knight’s (1944) work we have what seems to be the most complete historical description of this lost stone edifice. He wrote:
“In 1429 a new stone cross had been erected in Thursday Market in place of its predecessor by Marion Braythwayt, widow of John Braythwayt, who was Lord Mayor in 1394… This Cross was described by a writer in 1683 as “a fair Cross of stone, built upon the ascent of five steps, and hath neatly cut in stone a turret or battlement eight square, upon which is placed a round pillar with a four-square stone upon the top, which hath a sundial placed upon every square, and a vane above. The Cross hath a penthouse round about it, covered over with tile, to shelter the market people in rainy weather, and is supported upon eight posts, upon one of which, on the south side, is fixed an iron yard-wand, the standard measure of the market.” In 1705 the ancient Market Cross…was pulled down.”
References:
Cobb, Gerald, “Note on a Drawing of Thursday Market Cross, York,” in The Antiquaries Journal, 43:1, 1963.
Davies, Robert, Walks about the City of York, Nichols & Sons: Westminster 1880.
Drake, Francis, Eboracum; or the History and Antiquities of the City of York, Wilson & Spence: York 1788.
Gent, Thomas, The Antient and Modern History of the Famous City of York, Thomas Hammond: York 1730.
Knight, Charles Bruton, A History of the City of York, Herald: York & London 1944.
